


take me home cause i'm far away

by BlueSkyeEyes



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers: Endgame, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Endgame, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fix-It, Gen, Guilt, PTSD-implied, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, happy endings, it's thor/bruce if you squint but not really, mentions of tony's death but nothing explicit they're just at his funeral, mostly it's just sad conversations, thor doesn't have an eye because goddamnit let me keep this character development please, tony's funeral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 08:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18824668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueSkyeEyes/pseuds/BlueSkyeEyes
Summary: "I can’t…I can’t face the people in there, knowing that I couldn’t save everyone.”Bruce and Thor have a heart-to-heart at Tony's funeral.





	take me home cause i'm far away

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Thor’s familiar voice cuts through the silence Bruce had sought out on the hillside overlooking the lake, a far cry from the way he used to bellow his arrival at anyone around him. It’s sobering, the little things that say they’ve changed, but Bruce can’t dwell on it too long. He’s been known to get lost when he does.

“I was looking for some quiet. The funeral…” He trails off, his good shoulder shrugging up and down in an attempt to communicate just how overwhelming the funeral had been for him.

Thor nods, beard still braided the way it had been during battle. Bruce wants to ask if it’s a fashion choice, or if it just happens when he calls the lightening now, but it doesn’t seem like a relevant question to ask.

“I understand. It felt like it wasn’t my place to be there, either. I fought beside Steve and Tony for years, but our great victories over the demons that plagued this realm never made us more than brothers-at-arms. I mourn them, but perhaps, not as you do.” Thor says, fingers tugging at his beard. It’s probably a sign that Bruce finds himself so fascinated by it, but it’s another thing he can’t dwell on.

“That’s just the thing.” He sighs, eyes squinting against the brilliant blue of the lake spreading wide in front of them. “I knew Tony, I loved him. We were friends for years. And I cared about Steve, too. I don’t honestly know whose side I would have picked if they’d asked me to fight with them, before.”

That’s not relevant, it’s not the point he’s trying to make, but he knows Thor understands. They’d discussed it at length after the first snap took the lives of their friends, back when they needed any topic of conversation they could find to keep their minds off of the horrors they’d just witnessed.

“But I can’t be here, surrounded by the people they cared about, without feeling like I let them down. I had the glove, Thor, I was the one who snapped it. I could have ended everything, but instead I just made it all worse.”  He’s not one for relaying his deepest fears to someone else, but Thor’s seen him at his worst, time and time again. There’s no judgement between the two of them.

“How exactly did you make it all worse? Answer me that, Banner. You brought my people back; you saved the world. I don’t care if things went wrong after that—when _don’t_ things go wrong for the Avengers?” Thor says it so easily, like his word is the answer, the final declaration on the matter.

Bruce wants desperately to believe him.

“That doesn’t matter. I can’t…I can’t face the people in there, knowing that I couldn’t save everyone.”

Thor shrugs, easily, unfazed by the persistent self-doubt that’s always plagued Bruce. “So don’t go back in there. Come with me. I’m leaving tomorrow. Space is very large, and it could always use another Avenger to help tackle its problems.”

“I think Carol Danvers has that covered.” Bruce says, and he’s honestly surprised to see Thor dismiss the thought with a wave of his hand.

“I’m not asking you to be another Carol Danvers. I’m asking you to be Bruce Banner, brilliant scientific mind, and impressive destroyer. Which, by the way, I find this new transformation very confusing. What am I supposed to call you now, Hulk-Man? Mister Hulk?” Thor’s grinning to himself, clearly pleased with his little joke, and Bruce wants to humor him, even if just for a minute.

That, and he doesn’t want to answer Thor’s request. He’s not sure what his answer should be.

“It’s _professor_ to you, buddy. I didn’t spend twenty years earning seven PhD's to be denied my hard-earned title.” He wonders if it’s wrong to laugh at a funeral, but he decides it’s what Tony would want. The man had always lived his life as unconventionally as possible, after all.

“ _Professor Hulk_. I like that, very distinguished. It has a ring to it.” Thor repeats, grin widening. “Just don’t let Valkyrie hear you say it; she’ll tease you about it forever.”

And Bruce doesn’t doubt that.

They fall into an easy silence, Bruce still sitting looking out at the lake, Thor standing under a large oak tree just behind him. It’s companionable, but it’s underscored with a sad tension that Bruce isn’t sure how to break.

Somewhere in the middle of the emotions he’s feeling is Natasha, the place she had in his heart still a raw wound. He hadn’t loved her, not quite, because she hadn’t given him a chance to, but he’d wanted to. He’d regretted everything that had happened between them since that night at Clint’s farm. Despite the years they’d spent as the only remaining Avengers, they’d never really managed to reconcile.

He’s sorry he never told her how much she meant to him, not as a romantic partner, but as someone who believed in him when no one else did. When he didn’t believe in himself. He’s been unable to look Clint in the eyes because of it, waiting every moment to hear that the archer blames him for it all.

He’s not sure if it’s worse that Clint doesn’t seem to notice he’s still there.

Bruce clears his throat, blinking back the flood of emotions that threatens to escape at any moment. He knows he’s going to have to break down at some point, the sooner the better, but he can’t do it now. He doesn’t have it in him to be selfish enough to grieve someone else at Tony’s funeral. Thor moves closer, large hand coming down to rest comfortingly on Bruce’s shoulder.

“I heard that you got to talk to your mother. I’m sure that wasn’t easy,” Bruce says, tone neutral, ready to drop the subject at the first sign that Thor’s not ready to discuss it.

Thor hums noncommittally, the sound deep in his throat, and just a little sad. “I did. She was as beautiful as ever, and so wise. I’d forgotten how often I needed my mother’s council growing up. I wish I could have had it more often in the recent years. I think…I think I would have been a better king.”

And there’s something about that sentence that rings so false that Bruce stands up and looks Thor directly in the eyes. “You weren’t a bad king. You made mistakes, sure, but you protected them as best you could. You found them a new home, like you promised. And they know that.”

“I appreciate your kind words, friend Bruce, but there’s no denying the facts. You may feel as though you let down Natasha and Tony, but I let down my entire kingdom. Which crime is worse, I wonder?” Thor asks, and he’s resolutely looking off into the distance like he can’t stand to meet Bruce’s gaze. The pain and mistakes piling up between them is reaching monumental heights, a metaphorical pity party for two.

For a moment, Bruce entertains the idea of running away again. Escaping to space like he’d done so many years ago. It hadn’t solved his problems then, but it had allowed him to avoid them for almost three years.

“Okay. You’re a bad guy, I’m a bad guy. We’ve both done bad things. Let’s say we do go to space to avoid dealing with that, then. Where would we go? What’s the plan? We just become space outlaws?” He asks, running a thoughtful hand down his injured arm. It was likely he’d never be able to use it again, or even support it without the sling. What good would he be in a fight against a superior alien species?

“Oh, most certainly not. Space _vigilantes_ , I think. After all, we’re doing good for the universe.” Thor’s voice holds the same tone it had back when he first joined the Avengers, back when he’d been young and idealistic and, if Bruce is being honest, a little full of himself. But now his voice just sounds desperate, like he’s fighting to return to the old days.

“Right, that makes sense.” Bruce says, comfortable to keep humoring Thor if it helps him work through something. “Who would go with us? Or is this just a _buddy adventure_ , then?”

Thor shrugs, waving a hand vaguely in front of them. “Korg, probably. Miek, if he can be pulled away from his game. It’ll be like a bro-road trip. Like in Dumb and Dumber.”

Bruce appreciates that his pop culture references are improving, but he’s not sure that’s the movie he wants to emulate. At least Thor hadn’t suggested they were like _Thelma and Louise_. Small blessings, he supposed.

“And Valkyrie? She’d be okay to be left here alone?” He’s not sure why, but the more holes he pokes in this grand adventure, the less comfortable he is with the knowledge that life would mostly go on the same without them. The Earth would keep turning, their friends would move on.

“Valkyrie would inherit my entire kingdom. What more could she want?” Thor asks, so genuinely confused by the question that Bruce wants to ask him if he’s ever actually had a conversation with Valkyrie before.

“Uh, anything but that, honestly. Val doesn’t want to be a leader, Thor. She’s a warrior. She’s lost too much, and she doesn’t want to lose more. You can’t ask her to do your job for you.” The words feel cruel, especially when he sees Thor’s face fall. But he can’t ignore the truth to try and spare Thor’s feelings. They’d dance around every topic and never get anywhere if he tried that.

“Well, why wouldn’t she want that? She’s, you know, good with a sword and she likes yelling.”

Bruce laughs, a surprised sound he hadn’t intended to make. It still sounds odd to him, somewhere in the middle between his voice and Hulk’s voice. “That’s not what makes a good leader. A good leader does what’s right for their people, even if it isn’t easy. Even if it means sacrificing everything.”

Thor frowns, brow furrowed and arms folded. He looks pensive, but Bruce can see the wheels turning in his head.

“I don’t understand. I feel your judgement, Banner, but I don’t know what reaction you want from me. You say you want to leave this planet with me, but at the same time you don’t seem to want me to leave my people in the hands of my most trusted warrior.”

“We’re not leaving, Thor. I just wanted you to see what a terrible idea that is. You belong here. This is your home now, whether you like it not.” When Thor opens his mouth to protest, or possible to ask more questions, Bruce claps his good hand over Thor’s face. “And if you’re worried about betraying your people, abandoning them now isn’t the way to make up for that. You have to work to make that sort of thing better.”

It feels like the sort of conversation they should be having at night, in the rain, possibly in a cemetery, and not standing side by side in the sunlight, in front of the most beautiful body of water Bruce has ever seen. It’s the dramatic stuff of those movies Clint and Natasha had always tried to get him and Steve to watch, but he’s messing the trope up completely. He wonders if the conversation would be going differently if Thor was a woman and he wasn’t green.

He’d never paid much attention to the films, but he’s pretty sure their shared life history would have resulted in a kiss by now, at least.

“I-I like my plan better. Your plan is terrible. We’re going with my plan.” Thor says, inhaling sharply. But Bruce knows he’s gotten through to the former king. Current king, if he can wrangle the conversation successfully.

“Thor…” He responds softly, and that’s all it takes. Thor turns to him, remaining eye finally reflecting the thousand years of life he’s lived.

“I don’t know how to do this, Banner. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing. I always needed my mother, and Loki, and my warriors to help with this stuff. My father taught me that a prince never says he’s sorry, and it’s proving a hard lesson to unlearn.” Thor reaches up and tangles a hand in Bruce’s overcoat, fingers nearly pulling through the sling. Bruce doesn’t say a word.

“You have to help me.” Thor declares. “I need someone smart, who can tell me when I’m making a fool out of myself. And somehow you never seem to worry about calling me out when I’m wrong.”

It’s not what he expected Thor to say, it’s honestly kind of surprising, given just how _not_ put together Bruce has proven himself to be. He’s the ticking time bomb of the Avengers, the dirty little secret. He’s the one they minced their words around, and hid their feelings from, for fear they’d set him off. He spent most of his adult life being feared and hated, and somehow he can’t quite comprehend that someone might see him for more than that.

He’d thought Natasha might, once upon a time, but she’d just used him to get to the monster within. She’d ruined any possibility of reconciliation when she’d pushed him over the edge of the building. And Thor…He’d always thought Thor preferred the Hulk—even now, after the fighting’s done and they can finally rest, he’d expected Thor to ask him when he was going to let the Hulk out to play. It’s surprising that it’s nothing like what he’d expected.

What isn’t surprising is how quickly he finds himself answering.

“Okay. I’ll help you.”

Thor looks shocked for a moment, and then elated the next. “Really? You will? Oh, Banner, you won’t regret this! We’re going to make the best team Asgard has ever seen.”

Bruce lets himself enjoy the moment, a small smile crossing his face. He’d needed a purpose, and here Thor was, handing it to him. It wouldn’t quite make up for all the pain he’d caused, for the people he’d hurt, but it was a start. He was willing to try.

“I mean, you say you’ll be lost without me, so I figure I should give it a shot. If you’re that desperate for guidance, I’m here.” He can tell Thor picks up on the note of mirth in his voice by the way his eyebrows shoot up.

“No no, you’re misquoting me. I distinctly said I’d struggle without you. I don’t think I ever said I _couldn’t_ do it without you. I’m still a king, after all. I have, you know, a fancy throne and all that. You just have one of those funny roll-y chairs.” Thor gestures vaguely.

“You mean an office chair? Maybe not as fancy as a solid stone throne, but infinitely more comfortable.” Bruce argues, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin for the first time since he stepped outside.

“You’re wrong. Actually, I’m not sure this is going to work. I should ask the smaller Stark girl if she’d rather be my consultant. She seems bright.” Thor declares, and somehow everything feels like it’s going to be okay after all.

He might have let his friends down, failed to save them when it mattered most, but he could keep their legacy alive by continuing to protect the people they’d loved on the planet they’d died to protect. It wasn’t perfect, but it was his new beginning. And even if he felt selfish asking for one, he was taking it nonetheless.

“I hope you know I’m not going to let you get away with anything.” He breaks in, barreling over Thor’s continued monologuing about people he could replace Bruce with. “The first thing I’m going to do is start the scientific research program back up. You might be far more advanced than humans are, but you guys still fight with swords and battleaxes.”

Thor considers this for a moment, a range of emotions shifting across his face. “I can’t say that the way we’ve been running things for the past several thousand years has been _working_ , exactly, so I won’t argue. Change away, Banner.”

“Okay. We’re in business.” Bruce says, and they shake on it. The moment feels impactful, important, life-changing. He’s not going to mess this one up. And while he predicts several more bouts of panic from Thor before they get settled into their new lives, he’s confident they can make it through.

He’s pretty sure they can survive anything at this point.

“ _Hey!_ ” Morgan Stark calls from the porch of her father’s cabin. “ _Mom says everyone has to come eat now!”_

She smiles at them and runs back inside, dress swirling around her. Bruce is left with a burning desire to find out if she’s just as smart as her dad, but that doesn’t feel appropriate.

Thor gives him a soft grin, and offers him a hand. “What do you say, friend, we try again? The festivities can’t be all that bad. And if they are, we’ll leave. I’ve been wanting to visit an IHOP again.”

Bruce smothers a smile of his own and accepts the offered hand, feet moving slowly enough to match Thor’s pace down the hillside. “Yeah. I think we should try again.”

And things still weren’t perfect, but they had a chance to make it better. And somehow that made all the difference in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> This was mostly a way for me to work through my feelings about the way Endgame concluded without having to write a massive, 200,000 word fix-it going through every problem I had with this movie, so getting this down on paper was pretty cathartic for me. That being said, I picked these characters because I feel like people are more focused on Steve, Tony, and Natasha when it comes to fix-its right now, and I wanted to give these guys a fair shake at a happy ending as well! I also definitely didn't rewatch AoU for this, but I still insisted upon referencing it a lot, so my facts are probably pretty off there. Oh well. Come yell at me about Avengers


End file.
